


Dying

by PrincessSkylar



Series: I Thought I Heard You Say "I Love You" [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1, Angst, Avocados at Law, Brain Damage, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sickfic, Vomiting, best damn avocados, puking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessSkylar/pseuds/PrincessSkylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: Five Times Matt Got Sick and One Time It Was Foggy</p><p>The only time Matt Murdock will admit that he's dying is when he's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't.

“Hey Karen, have you seen Matt?” Foggy asked from his desk as the young secretary walked in and started setting up her own desk.

 

Karen frowned and shook her head. “No. Why?”

 

Foggy shook his head. “Nothing, just thought he’d be here by now.”

 

In truth, Foggy was constantly worried about Matt, ever since he had found out about him being Daredevil, and the fact that he was late for work just sort of freaked him out a little. (And by ‘a little’, I mean ‘a lot.)

 

He tried to focus on his work and put Matt out of his mind, assuring himself his friend would be fine. Matt could take care of himself. He was a big boy. He’d been doing this for years, nothing could have happened to him he was Matt Freaking Murdock.

 

He just about jumped out of his skin as the sound of his phone ringing pulled him back to the present. He scrambled to pick it up, his heart thumping in anticipation as he read Matt’s name across the screen.

 

“Hey,” he greeted, pushing the fear out of his voice.

 

“ _Foggy_ ,” Matt’s pained voice made Foggy’s stomach churn. He groaned, “ _Foggy, I think I’m dying._ ”

 

Foggy stood up from his chair so fast he bumped a box of files off of his desk. He waved off Karen’s concerned look and started towards the door. “Where are you?”

 

“ _My apartment,_ ” Matt answered, breathing heavily. “ _I’m sorry to bother you, I just--_ ”

 

“Shut up, Matt, I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Foggy promised, already halfway towards the street. “Hang in there, buddy.”

 

“ _Mm-hmm_ ,” Matt replied as though talking pained him.

 

**…**

Foggy unlocked Matt’s apartment door (of course he had a key, why wouldn’t he?) and called out, “Matt?”

 

“Bathroom,” came a quick reply.

 

Foggy raced to the bathroom and swung the door open, revealing Matt to be clutching the toilet bowl like a life-line. The confusing part, was that he saw Matt. Plain, old, lawyer Matt Murdock, not bright-spandex-clad Daredevil. He couldn’t see any blood, either.

 

“What happened?” Foggy asked, moving to crouch next to him. “What do you need? Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

 

Matt lowered one hand from the toilet to clutch his stomach. He turned his face towards Foggy and shook his head. “That Mexican place, down the street… Don’t.”

 

Foggy wasn’t sure whether to punch him or cry in relief. He decided on the first. “You asshole, I really thought you were dying!”

 

Matt groaned and leaned his forehead against the toilet seat (yeah, ew.) “Sorry, I tried to explain, but…”

 

Foggy let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and rubbed his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, before he said, “It’s fine... I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Matt managed a weak smile, but it disappeared as he sat forward and hurled into the toilet, a smell and sound equally horrible that made Foggy wince. He threw up again, before his stomach seemed to run out of things to puke, and he was left heaving air into the toilet bowl.

 

He spat into the toilet a couple of times to get rid of the taste, the wiped his mouth on some toilet paper and flushed.

 

“In the kitchen…” Matt began, but Foggy cut him off.

 

“Already on it,” he promised, standing up. “Back in a moment.”

 

Foggy returned a moment later with a glass of water, a pack of crackers, and some drink that smelled like piss.

 

“What’s that?” Matt asked wearily.

 

Foggy handed him the drink. “Just drink it, it’ll help.”

 

“I’m not sure about that,” Matt replied, taking the drink with a disgusted expression.

 

“You’ll want this,” Foggy added, setting the glass of water down on the floor next to him.

 

As Matt forced down the concoction, Foggy reached out and picked up his glasses from where they had been abandoned on the floor and folded them up, before setting them gingerly on the counter.

 

Matt gagged on the drink, but he finished it quickly and went instantly for the water, having a little trouble locating it.

 

He downed the entire glass, and immediately went to throw up everything he had just forced down. He clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Foggy sighed. “I’ll get you some more water,” he said softly, “And try to eat those crackers, okay?”

 

Matt nodded, as Foggy took the cups and left again. When he returned, Matt was leaning against the wall opposite of the toilet, his head tilted to the ceiling and his hand pressed through the buttons of his shirt to grab his stomach. He felt slightly better to see that a few of the crackers were already gone.

 

Foggy set down the glass of water within Matt’s arm reach and kneeled down on the floor next to him. “Do you wanna change into something more comfortable?” he asked, knowing that being in a business suit could only be making Matt feel worse.

 

Matt nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and started to stand up.

 

“I’ll get it,” Foggy promised, stopping Matt with a hand on his shoulder. “Stay put.”

 

Matt seemed eager to agree, as he relaxed against the wall again.

 

Foggy brought him a t-shirt and sweatpants, and helped him change into them.

 

As he was folding Matt’s suit over the back of the couch (to keep it neat and out of range of puke-fumes,) Karen called.

 

“Hey,” he greeted casually.

 

 _“Is everything okay?_ ” she asked, “ _You left in a hurry._ ”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Foggy said with a wince, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could continue folding Matt’s clothes. “Everything’s fine. Matt got food poisoning, so I’m taking care of him.”

 

“ _Oh, no, is he okay?_ ” Karen asked, voice full of concern.

 

Foggy laughed lightly. “He says he’s dying, but I think he’ll make it.”

 

“ _Tell him I hope he gets better soon._ ”

 

Foggy nodded, picking up the phone with his hand again and moving towards the bathroom. “Will do. Oh, and, I, uh, probably won’t be coming back to work today.”

 

Karen sighed. “ _Alright, I’ll close up. Do you want me to stop by?_ ”

 

“I don’t think he’d want you to see him like this,” Foggy answered with a slight wince.

 

“ _Okay… Talk to you later, Foggy._ ”

 

“Goodbye, Karen.” Foggy locked his phone and sat down next to Matt, who was just leaning back from the toilet and flushing it again.

 

“Thanks for all this,” he muttered, before spitting into the toilet. “You didn’t have to.”

 

“I couldn’t just let you die, could I?” Foggy replied, raising an eyebrow.

 

Matt smirked that cute little smirk of his and shrugged. “Guess not.”

 

“Can’t have Nelson and Murdock without Murdock,” Foggy continued with an exaggerated sigh. He leaned against the wall. “It’d just be a mess.”

 

“I think you’d manage,” Matt replied, leaning his head against the wall, facing Foggy.

 

“I don’t know, Matt, you didn’t know me before I h-- before I knew you.”

 

Matt laughed, frowning slightly. “Of course not.”

 

“I was a wreck.”

 

“Whatever you say, Foggy.”

 

…

 

Foggy ended up sitting with Matt on that bathroom floor for the next several hours, offering small comforts and distractions, until Matt decided to go to bed.

 

There was really no argument about Foggy’s staying.

 

He sat on a chair which he had pulled into Matt’s room, watching the sick man sleep, until he himself eventually dozed off.

 

He woke up to a gentle hand on his shoulder and blearily opened his eyes to see Matt’s face. His initial reaction was to smile, until he felt the horrible ache in his neck.

 

“Take the bed,” Matt said softly.

 

Foggy would have normally argued, but Matt had taken advantage of his inability to protest while half-awake. He simply nodded and climbed into the bed, unaware that Matt would be taking up the space next to him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on a real experience I had last Christmas. Pro tip: if the eggnog smells funny, it's not worth the risk.


	2. Fool Me Once...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's is annoying, but gosh he's cute.

“ _Foggy, I think I’m dying._ ”

 

Foggy tensed. He remembered the last time that Matt had said that-- the only other time Matt had said that. But… With Daredevil as a best friend, you could never be too careful.

 

“What happened?” he asked, torn between slight irritation and panic.

 

Matt coughed. “ _Just come over, please?_ ”

 

Foggy took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll be there in a sec.” Whether or not Matt was really in any danger of dying, he was his best friend and deserved all the help Foggy could offer. Plus, he said please.

 

“ _Okay,_ ” Matt replied, his smile almost audible. “ _Thanks._ ”

 

**…**

 

This time, Matt was curled up on his side in bed, under a blanket, shivering and sweating all at once. He had dark circles under his eyes, eyes which were red like his nose.

 

“Jesus, Matt,” Foggy muttered, “You look like shit.”

 

“You should see yourself,” Matt muttered with a small smile, before going into a coughing fit. He sat up and grabbed a tissue off of his bedside table to contain his cough.

 

Foggy sighed and moved over to sit on the side of the bed as Matt wrapped his arms around himself, looking small inside his big sweater.

 

“So, is this like the flu, or…?”

 

Matt shook his head. “Claire says it’s just a cold,” he answered, his stuffed up nose making his voice sound funny. “It’s not contagious. Promise.”

 

“I don’t know the first thing about treating a cold,” Foggy informed him. “I don’t think I can be any help.”

 

“Don’t go,” Matt said quickly, reaching out like he thought Foggy was gonna leave.

 

Foggy placed his own hand over Matt’s extended one, lowering it to the bed. “Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

“Just… Stay with me,” Matt said softly.

 

Foggy sighed, hating to see Matt look so… Weak. Matt was supposed to be the strong one, the confident one. “I’m gonna go look up cures on the internet.”

 

Matt nodded, releasing Foggy’s hand slowly, almost hesitantly. “Okay. That’s… That’s a good idea.”

 

Foggy and Matt spent the next few hours trying out different home cures, some of which just seemed ridiculous (they laughed together over these), some of which actually helped a bit, and a few that didn’t seem to do anything.

 

The evening wore on. There was another call from Karen, who was, again, stuck at the office alone. Foggy shared a few jokes, which made Matt smile or laugh, despite the pain that laughter caused his throat, and they talked. Mostly Foggy talked. Neither of them minded that.

 

Eventually, night fell. Matt didn’t seem to notice, but Foggy was starting to feel tired and wondered when he should head home.

 

“I should probably be going soon,” he commented quietly from where he sat at the foot of Matt’s bed.

 

Matt nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, um, thanks for coming over.”

 

“Hey, no problem,” Foggy replied with a small smile. “You did say ‘please’.”

 

Matt laughed lightly. “That’s true.”

 

They sat there quietly for a moment, before Foggy started standing up. He made it about halfway to the bedroom door, before Matt’s quietly spoke.

 

“Couldn’t you stay a while?”

 

Foggy turned to see that Matt had that ridiculous look on his face that made him look like a damn hurt puppy. If he didn’t know better, he would think Matt purposefully practiced that face in the mirror in order to manipulate him.

 

Foggy sighed and closed his eyes. “Matt, I’m tired, and you need to be resting, I really…”

 

“Please?”

 

Foggy tossed his head back. _Damn you and you’re stupid adorable face._ “Alright,” he sighed, looking at Matt again.

 

Matt’s face brightened, and Foggy’s stomach churned.

 

“Should I take the couch?” he asked.

 

Matt lowered his head and played with his hands, “I… I’ll take the couch.”

 

Foggy frowned. “No, Matt, you’re sick. We both know you won’t sleep on that shitty couch, which means you can’t--”

 

“Then we share the bed,” Matt blurted out.

 

Foggy let out a small breath. He would have been reluctant, except that it wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed. “Alright, scoot over.”

 

Matt did as he was told, and the two were soon tucked into opposite sides of the bed, Foggy lying on his side, facing away from Matt.

 

“Tell me a story,” Matt requested softly, after a few minutes of silence.

 

Foggy thought for a minute. “Did I ever tell you that my mom wanted me to be a butcher?”

 

Matt laughed and reached out to smack Foggy’s arm. “Not that story.”

 

Foggy smiled, feeling his heart lift at the sound of Matt’s laughter. “Alright, alright. So, there was this time, in high school…”

 

Matt fell asleep to the sound of Foggy’s voice.

 

…

 

Foggy woke up in the morning to find Matt’s arms wrapped around his waist, the smaller man’s breath warm against his neck, and the soothing feeling of Matt’s lungs filling and deflating.

 

Torn between the the wonderful comfort and the reality of how weird this was, Foggy simply lay still for a while.

 

Until, feeling terrified of what would happen if Matt woke up while like that, he carefully maneuvered his way out of his friend’s arms.

 

Of course, with Matt’s super-senses, he was informed of what was going before Foggy’s feet touched the carpet.

 

Matt made some groggy sound, and Foggy turned around to see that he was frowning slightly, and curling in on himself. “C’me back, you’re warm,” he muttered.

 

Foggy laughed, which came out a bit more nervous than intended. “I have work, Matt. So do you, if you could stop being sick for three minutes.”

 

Matt frowned more deeply and his eyes opened pointlessly. “But I was comfy.”

 

“Glad to hear it, but I gotta go.”

 

Matt sighed exaggeratedly and rolled onto his back. “You’re a cruel man, Foggy Nelson.”

 

“I’m a real heartbreaker, I know,” Foggy replied flatly. “See you later, Matt.”

 

Matt sighed and closed his eyes. “Bye, Foggy.”

 

“Get some rest.”

 

Matt nodded, and Foggy left.

 

**…**

 

Matt healed fast. It wasn’t more than two days before he was coming into work again, still looking drained, but happy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay stuff  
> The chapters are probs gonna get shorter from here. But I'm trying to prevent that, so hang in there.  
> Also, while this chapter kind of resembled the pattern of the first one, have faith that the next one will be different. 
> 
> To my previous readers: Expect this will be much different from my last solo piece (It Can't Be Helped, the trainwreck of a Spideypool attempt,) in that it will get a proper ending.


	3. Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid, beautiful human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter's kinda weak, and I think that's cause I really just wanted to get to Chapter 4. Which is gonna be hella fun. Trust me.

“ _Foggy, I’m dying._ ”

 

Foggy sighed, long and low. “Are you? ‘Cause every time you say that, you’re fine.”

 

Matt laughed. “ _Yeah, that’s true._ ” He sniffed. “ _I think that cold came back though, you’d be my best friend if you brought me some tea and your wonderful company._ ”

 

“I’m already your best friend,” Foggy countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

“ _So you’ll bring me tea?_ ”

 

Foggy huffed. “Fine,” he relented, glaring at the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

 

Matt laughed. “ _Thank you, Foggy_.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Foggy rolled his eyes and hung up. He stood up out of his chair, passing Karen on her way in.

 

“Where are you going?” she asked.

 

“Matt’s,” Foggy answered shortly, throwing on his coat and not stopping. “He’s got a cold or something."

 

Karen stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if she had some reason not to believe him. Which was just confusing. “Should I close the office?”

 

“Probably,” Foggy sighed.

 

Karen nodded. “Tell Matt I said hi,” she said, turning to walk back into the office.

 

“Will do!” Foggy called behind him as he turned to walk out the door again.

 

**…**

 

“You’re officially the best friend in the world,” Matt’s voice sounded from the living room as Foggy walked through the front door.

 

“I thought we’d already established that,” Foggy replied swiftly, walking in to see Matt looking much better than the last two times he’d said he was ‘dying.’

 

He wore a t-shirt and jeans (and socks, of course. The guy had some kind of issue with being barefoot,) as he sat on the couch, a box of tissue in his hands and a blanket draped loosely around his shoulders.

 

“We established that you’re my best friend, but now I’m starting to realise you’re actually the best friend,” Matt clarified, turning his head towards Foggy.

 

“Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky, then,” Foggy replied, moving past Matt to the kitchen to make tea. “Are you contagious?”

 

Matt shrugged. “Probably.”

 

Foggy sighed. “Great,” he mumbled, feeling irritated that, not only was he falling way behind on work, but he might actually contract whatever stupidity was poisoning his friend, then they’d both be out of commision and the Johnson’s case would be--

 

He took a quiet, slow breath. Closed his eyes, counted silently to ten.

 

In the corner of his eye, Foggy noticed Matt’s head lowering. He decided not to comment.

 

There was a kind of weird silence that spanned the next several minutes, until Foggy was making his way back to the living room and handing Matt his tea. He sat down on the chair across from him.

 

“Thanks,” Matt said softly.

 

“No problem,” Foggy answered cheerfully, wishing away the unexpected and uncomfortable awkwardness suddenly infecting the air.

 

Matt took a sip from his cup, wincing at the heat. “You know, I was sort of exaggerating when I said I was dying…”

 

“No shit,” Foggy replied with a small laugh.

 

Matt went quiet again.

 

“Uh, sorry.” Foggy looked down at the warm cup in his hands. He wasn’t mad at Matt, he was mad at Matt’s stupid weak immune system. He was mad at the mountains of paperwork sitting at his desk. He was mad at the stupid Johnson’s case, which he couldn’t even move forward on without Matt’s help cause he was-- he was mad at himself, for not being able to do a damn thing without Matt, for always relying on the stupid fucker for help all the time.

 

He wasn’t mad at Matt. He took another quiet, calming breath. He didn’t want Matt to think he was mad at him. He just wanted a break.

 

Matt shrugged. “Thanks for coming to check on me,” he said softly.

 

“What are friends for?” Foggy replied with a small smile, reminding himself that it was okay that his company was going to shit, and that Matt was being brought down by nothing more than the sniffles. It was okay, because Matt wasn’t actually dying. He was here, he was safe, even if he wasn’t healthy.

 

Matt’s imaginary gaze led to his tea. A pointless notion, but Foggy wished he couldn’t understand Matt’s body language so well. He was about to ask what was wrong, when Matt said, “You don’t have to stay.”

 

Foggy frowned. “What are you talking about? Of course I do.”

 

Matt shook his head. “No, I’m inconveniencing you, and I might get you sick, you should--”

 

“Hey,” Foggy snapped, and Matt shut his stupid, enticing-- stupid mouth. Just stupid. _Focus, Nelson_. “If I wanted to leave, you know I would. But you asked me to come and give you company, so I’m here.”

 

Matt lowered his head again, and Foggy wanted to reach across and smack him upside the head.

 

He wasn’t angry at Matt. He was angry at the idea that, at some point, Matt could easily call and really be dying.

 

He was mad at Daredevil.

 

Foggy sighed. “Matt, you know I’ll always be here for you, right?”

 

Matt shifted a bit, silent for a moment. “I know, Foggy.”

 

“No matter what. You’re my best friend, the most important person in my life.”

 

Matt didn’t reply to that, still keeping his head down. Being infuriatingly broody.

 

Foggy huffed in annoyance. “I’m just-- I worry about you,” he said, surprised at the sincere concern in his own voice, where he had expected irritation.

 

“I know you do,” Matt assured him, raising his head again. “I know, Foggy, and I’m sorry--”

 

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Matt!” Foggy snapped, “I want you to be okay. I want you to be safe, and-- and…” _I just want you._

 

Matt bit his lip and stood up, allowing the blanket to drop off of his shoulders. He walked over to stand in front of Foggy. He knelt in front of him and fumbled slightly to take his hand, doing the best he could to make eye-contact. “I know, Foggy,” he said softly. “And _I_ want you to stop worrying so much. I can take care of myself. You know that.”

 

Foggy shook his head. “I know. I just can’t-- I can’t help imagining, when you’re out there, running around in that mask, that-- that something’s gonna happen, and--” his voice cracked. He swallowed. “I can’t lose you, Matty.”

 

“You won’t,” Matt said softly. “That’s a promise.”

 

Foggy lifted their joined hands to his forehead and closed his eyes. “If you die, I’ll kick your ass.”

 

Foggy heard the faint sound of Matt’s lips twisting into a smile. “There’s my Foggy.”

 

“I’m not your Foggy, Murdock,” Foggy argued, unwilling to fight the faint smile that crawled onto his own face.

 

Matt laughed lightly. “I beg to differ.”

 

Foggy opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at Matt again. His treacherous heart lifted at the sight of Matt’s smile. That dumb smile always made his anger dissipate.

_  
Stupid, beautiful human. _


	4. The Devil Cried Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real. Foggy needs a hug.

Foggy had actually slept in his own bed that night.

 

‘Slept’ meaning that he had lay in his bed, with the light off, probably unconscious for a couple of hours. He didn’t feel rested when he came into work. He felt cranky.

 

“Hey, Foggy, how’s Matt?” Karen asked.

 

“Not dead,” Foggy answered bluntly.

 

“Well, that’s good,” Karen replied optimistically.

 

Foggy nodded, walking over to his office.

 

“Is he coming in today?”

 

“I don’t know, Karen,” Foggy snapped.

 

Karen went quiet, looking down at the papers on her desk.

 

Foggy sighed. “I’m sorry, just…”

 

“Are you and Matt fighting again?” Karen suddenly demanded, turning to look at Foggy, “Because--”

 

“ _No,_ ” Foggy cut her off. “I’m just tired.”

 

Karen lowered her gaze for a moment. “Promise?”

 

Foggy sighed. “I promise.”

 

Karen nodded. “By the way, Calvin Johnson called about the lease, he said--”

 

“Schedule another consultation,” Foggy ordered tiredly. “Sometime today, if possible.”

 

Karen nodded. “Right.”

 

Foggy opened up the Johnson’s case, and started flipping through it again, looking for anything he had missed that could--

 

_Riiing! Riiing!_

 

Foggy set down the file and closed his eyes as he unlocked the phone. “Hello?”

 

“ _I’m--_ ”

 

“Do _not_ say ‘dying,’ Murdock.”

 

“ _... I can’t come to work._ ”

 

Foggy sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand, pinching his eyes shut. Of course Matt couldn’t come to work. He was a fucking germ-magnet. This was the fourth time in three months that he had skipped out on work due to being sick, and Foggy had gone along with him and now they were so fucking behind on everything and Foggy had a headache and... And he just wanted to sleep.

 

“What is it this time, Matt?” he asked, failing to keep the hint of concern from his voice.

 

“ _It’s… Nothing. Just a little under the weather. I’ll come into work as soon as I can. Promise. Talk to you later, Foggy._ ”

 

Matt hung up before Foggy had a chance to answer.

 

The rest of the day, things only got worse.

 

A dozen dumb cases dangled over Foggy’s head, he didn’t know what to do, but he pushed through, determined to prove, if only to himself, that he could run the company alone.

 

Around five-thirty in the evening, his phone rang again.

 

In a fit of frustration, he threw the file he was working on at the wall. He ran his hands through his hair and let the phone ring for a moment, the stress building up inside of him attempting to burst out.

 

He composed himself and picked up his phone. It was Karen.

 

“ _Foggy?_ ” her voice sounded raw, scared.

 

Foggy’s stomach churned, frustration twisting painfully into concern “Yeah?”

 

“ _It’s Matt, he-- he’s in the hospital._ ”

 

Foggy’s blood ran cold. Every muscle in his body tensed. “What happened?” he demanded, forcing his body into action, running out of his office as quickly as he could. “Is he with you?”

 

“ _It’s, um, he’s in with the flu, and it’s not looking so good._ ”

 

Foggy cursed loudly, his fingers curling around his cell phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

 

“ _Be safe, Foggy._ ”

 

“I will.”

 

…

 

“Fog--”

 

“Matt.”

 

Foggy ran to Matt’s side as soon as he saw him lying on that bed, a dumb tube stuck through his arm and big, dark bags under his eyes. He wore one of those stupid hospital gowns, and looked generally miserable.

 

But he smiled when he heard Foggy.

 

“Oh, my god, Matt…” Foggy breathed softly.

 

“That bad?” Matt laughed.

 

Foggy wanted to scoop Matt into his arms and hold him tight. He bit his lip, and everything came rushing out at once. He collapsed into a chair next to the bed and lowered his head into his hands, trying to hide as he broke down into muffled sobs.

 

He heard Karen’s heels on the floor, felt her hand on his back, ignored her soft, “Hey, he’s gonna be fine.”

 

“Hey, Foggy, I’m not dying, it’s just the flu, I’ll make it,” Matt tried to tell him.

 

But that just made it worse. Foggy’s stomach dropped. Not dying. Of course not, because if he said he was dying that’d mean everything was fine, right? That would mean he had some stupid bug that could be fixed with a bowl of chicken soup and some good rest.

 

Not dying meant nothing was okay. It meant things were serious. Matt always said things were fine when they weren’t, and damnit, Foggy was just mad.

 

He was mad at Matt.

 

He lifted his face, ready to take out all of his frustration on his best friend, the guy who had never done him any wrong. The one guy who was always there for him.

 

He was ready to yell about how much he needed Matt, how much he relied on him, he couldn’t lose him, he needed him. He was mad at Matt for being so perfect. He was mad at Matt for being so important. Mad at him for always getting hurt. Mad at him for making him fall in love.

 

But he was stopped.

 

All of the anger dissipated as a soft hand touched his face. He saw Matt’s concerned expression. His beautiful face riddled with tired lines, and dark circles, and red eyes. His beautiful face distorted by concern for someone who thought himself so undeserving of it.

 

Matt’s thumb moved to wipe a tear off of Foggy’s cheek. He smiled bravely. “I promise to be okay,” he said softly.

 

Foggy placed a hand over Matt’s and bit back another threatening wave of tears. “You’d better be.”

 

**…**

The day wore on, but Karen and Foggy stuck in Matt’s room. Keeping him company even when he slept. Leaving only when the nurses made them.

 

Eventually, after Matt had fallen asleep for the night, Karen left.

 

But Foggy stayed.

 

He fell asleep in a chair by the bed, thinking about how badly he needed Matt to be okay.

 

He slept terribly. He couldn’t remember his nightmares when he woke up, because they dissolved when he saw that Matt was awake, his blank eyes aimed at the ceiling.

 

“Why are you still here?” Matt asked quietly.

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

Matt smiled somewhat bitterly. “You know the answer to that, Foggy.”

 

Foggy sighed, sitting up to rub his face in agitation. “You need to stop getting sick.”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

“I know.”

 

There was an invasive silence that followed. The kind that puts thoughts on mute, the kind that could mean everything and nothing at the same time. Interrupted only by the patterned beeping of Matt’s heart monitor.

 

The silence was broken by Matt’s soft whisper. “Foggy?”

 

“Yeah?” Foggy replied, voice equally soft as he looked to the other man, barely noticing how Matt’s hands had started to fidget uncomfortably under the hem of his blanket.

 

“I’m sorry,” Matt answered, his voice so low Foggy wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it. Slightly louder, clearer, he reiterated, “I’m really sorry, for all of this.”

 

“Hey, don’t be,” Foggy replied, leaning forward quickly. “I know it’s not your fault.”

 

Matt turned his head towards Foggy. “You’ve been stressed, I know.” He held up a hand when Foggy tried to interrupt him, effectively shutting him up. “And it’s my fault. So I really am sorry.”

 

Foggy sighed and shook his head. “I’m not the one who’s in the hospital right now.”

 

“Foggy--”

 

“ _Matt._ ”

 

Matt sighed, turning his head back to the ceiling. His fingers picked at the edge of his covers.

 

The room filled with silence once more, save for the steady beating of Matt’s heart.

 

“Get some rest,” Foggy said softly.

 

Matt nodded, and closed his eyes. “You too.”

 

**…**

 

Foggy woke up a few minutes later to the loud, panicky beeping of one of the monitors. His eyes flew open to the sight of Matt struggling on the bed, gasping for breath.

 

He flew out of his seat at the same time half a dozen nurses and doctors rushed through the door.

 

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” one of the nurses said, standing between Foggy and Matt as the rest of the doctors hurried to work.

 

“B-- Matt--”

 

“ _Sir,_ if you want your friend to _live_ you have to leave. _Now._ ” The nurse insisted, grabbing his shoulder and practically forcing him through the door.

 

“Matt!” Foggy repeated, as another nurse left Matt’s side to help push Foggy out of the room. Foggy allowed them to do so with little resistance, but not until he called out one last thing;

  
“I love you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That nurse sure is an asshole.  
> There's still two more chapters, I can't be killing of Matt yet, right? Right...?  
> You'll just have to wait and see.
> 
> Bonus points if you picked up the Agents of SHIELD reference.
> 
> By the way, due to scheduling complications, it might be a few days before chapter five gets uploaded.  
> So. Um. Have fun with that cliffhanger. ^_^"


	5. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets REAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who loves foreshadowing?!  
> Hopefully not any of you guys because I just thought of how I want to continue this when I was already halfway through this chapter.
> 
> Also SUPER sorry about the long wait. Life happened. Ugh. But yeah at LONG LAST I present CHAPTER FIVE!

Foggy spent a restless night at his own apartment, checking his phone every few minutes to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls from the hospital.

Sleep was impossible, almost unimaginable. He ended up watching television all through the night, dozing off a few times only to wake in a start at the fear that he was missing something.

He walked into work the next morning with a cup of coffee and dark circles under his eyes.

Karen sat at her desk, her cheek resting against her hand, her head drooping. Foggy couldn’t tell if she was awake or not.

“Rough night?” he asked as he walked past her towards his own office.

Karen started slightly before sitting up and clearing her throat. “Is it morning already?” she asked, voice thick with sleep.

Foggy smiled weakly, pausing at his office door. “You were here all night, huh?”

Karen nodded, looking down at her laptop absently. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

Foggy nodded back, before turning to walk the rest of the way into his office. He picked up the file and all of the papers from it that had fallen to the floor during his tantrum the previous day.

“Maybe we should do something,” Karen suggested. She looked over at Foggy, who had turned to her with weary curiosity. She looked down at her desk again. “To keep busy.”

“Like finish preparing for this damn case?” Foggy retorted bitterly, waving the file at her before moving over to his desk. He sat heavily in his chair and sighed, dropping the file on his desk. He glanced at his phone again, and when he looked up, Karen was standing in the office doorway, looking down at him. “What?” he demanded tiredly.

“We really should go somewhere.”

“Like where? Where would we go?” Foggy retorted, throwing up his hands in defeat.

Karen shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She wrapped her arms around herself. “We could both use a break. I know you’re stuck on this case, there’s nothing for us to do here.”

Foggy sighed, his shoulders slumping. She was right, as usual. “Is Josie’s open?”

“Foggy--”

“Kidding.”

Karen didn’t laugh. “Come on. There’s an IHOP down the street; I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday morning.”

Foggy nodded and stood up. “Alright,” he relented, “Sounds good.”

As the two were making their way out of the building, Foggy’s phone rang. In his haste to answer it, he almost dropped it on the ground.

“Hello?”

“ _Is this Foggy Nelson_?”

“That’s me,” Foggy replied, stopping to lean against the wall and cradle the phone closely. Karen watched with apprehensive curiosity.

“ _It’s Claire, I’m calling to update you on Matt’s condition._ ”

Foggy tensed, fear and hope warring painfully in his chest. “And…?”

“ _He’s stable_.”

He sighed loudly as a wave of tension rolled off of him. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Anything else?”

“ _If everything goes well, he should be awake by tomorrow, should be out within the week,” Claire supplied, “I’ll keep you posted._ ”

Foggy nodded. “Thanks again, Claire.”

“ _Take care._ ”

Foggy hung up and returned the phone to his pocket, feeling slightly better.

He opened his eyes and picked up his head as Karen demanded to know what had happened. He recounted the conversation as they continued out of the building.

As the two ate their breakfast, they tried to make distracting conversation, but everything ended up being about Matt.

Everything always seemed to be about Matt.

Turned out that having a full stomach and the knowledge that Matt still wasn’t quite dead did make them both feel better. Foggy had just paid for breakfast, and the two were getting ready to leave, when his phone went off again.

Leave it to Matt Murdock to recover from a potentially fatal virus a day early. When Foggy and Karen went down to the hospital to visit him, they were stopped by staff, who told them that Matt was still potentially contagious, and wasn’t allowed visitors.

Like that was going to stop them from trying.

Karen tracked down Claire, promising Foggy she’d convince her to let them in.

Foggy took a seat in the waiting room. He watched the little television in the corner of the room for a few minutes, though listening to it proved futile.

He paced a bit. He reminisced. He ended up sitting in a chair, bouncing impatiently as he waited for word from Karen.

At some point, sleep deprivation got the best of him, and he drifted off.

His dream started strange… Then again, when are dreams not strange? He heard Matt’s voice, saying his name.

“ _Come on, Foggy,_ ” he was saying a soft voice. “ _Come on, please._ ”

“Matt?” Foggy called out, just before an image of Matt found it’s way into his sight. Images formed around him, the kind of weird dream image that can’t really be described. He knew he was still in the hospital. Something… The smell, maybe. The faint beeping of a heart monitor. The sound of nurses running about between emergencies. The scene bounced between clear and nonsensical in a way that Foggy wouldn’t understand until he woke up.

Foggy felt a hand in his, and it took a moment for him to figure out it belonged to Matt. “ _I need you, Foggy._ ”

“I’m okay,” Foggy assured him, confused and worried. “It’s gonna--”

“ _It’s gonna be okay,_ ” Matt’s quiet voice cracked. “ _It has to be, right? It--_ ” His voice broke and he went quiet for a moment.

“Matt?” Foggy whispered, panic and concern tugging at his stomach.

“ _It has to be,_ ” Matt repeated, his grip on Foggy’s hand tightening. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “ _I never-- I never had the chance to tell you that I love you._ ”

That was when Foggy realized it was a dream. He gave Matt’s hand a squeeze and smiled. “You can tell me when you’re all better.”

“ _F-Foggy?_ ” Matt’s voice sounded disbelieving.

Foggy reached out a hand to wipe the tears off of Matt’s face, but he stopped as he felt a hand shaking his shoulder.

“ _Foggy, wake up,_ ” someone was saying. Matt was slipping away. “Foggy,” the voice repeated, clearer. “Come on, wake up!”

He opened his eyes to see Karen standing over him, her hand on his shoulder, her expression sympathetic.

Foggy groaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. He stretched his arms out for a moment. “Uck, I hate sleeping in chairs,” he mumbled, the dream fading from his memory as he woke up. He stood up and stretched his back. “How’d it go with Claire?”

“She threatened to have security throw us out,” Karen replied with a slightly guilty expression.

Foggy laughed weakly. “Alright. How about a walk, then?”

Karen nodded and wrapped her arms around herself, and Foggy noticed how red her eyes were. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they made their way out of the hospital.

**…**

“ _Foggy, guess what._ ”

“Matt?”

“ _I’m not dying._ ”

Foggy laughed weakly, and covered his face with one hand, as tears threatened to overcome him again. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“ _They’re keeping me under surveillance, but you guys can visit now. Uh, if you want_.”

“Be there in ten. Karen! Grab your coat!”

**…**

The two were soon walking into Matt’s hospital room. Karen ran forward as soon as the door opened, while Foggy took his time advancing through the bleak room.

“Hey,” Matt laughed, already seated upright, managing a crooked, yet gallant smile, despite the cords and tubes that were still connected to his body.

“How are you feeling?” Karen asked softly, from where she now stood at his side.

Matt shrugged casually. “I’ve had worse,” he replied simply.

Foggy scoffed. “Doubt it,” he retorted, still lingering within reach of the door.

Matt laughed and turned his head to Foggy. “What are you doing way over there?”

“Are you kidding? I don’t wanna get the flu,” Foggy replied with ease, smoothly covering up his dubiety. In truth, he was still unsure if Matt had heard his last words from the day before… His dread for Matt’s response had been what had held those words back before then. Now, they might be out in the open.

Or they might not.

Matt raised an eyebrow. Foggy briefly wondered why Matt still used expressions to communicate after not having seen anyone else use them in years.

He also wondered why Matt was questioning his answer.

“What?” he asked, sounding maybe a little too defensive.

Matt sighed. “Foggy, don’t make this weird,” he pleaded, “It’s okay.”

Karen turned to Foggy with a questioning frown, but he purposefully avoided her gaze.

“Hey, Karen,” Matt began, but the blonde was already moving to leave the room.

“You guys work it out, I’ll be outside,” she said, her calm voice betraying a hint of irritation. She looked at each of them pointedly as she opened the door. “If you guys are having another fight, I’ll strangle you both.”

“Thank you,” Matt said softly, with a smile.

Karen nodded and left the room.

Silence followed, as the two began to work up the nerve they needed, as well as figure out the words they would use.

“Foggy,” Matt began slowly, “I heard--”

“I just thought, if you were dying, you should know, because I never would have gotten the chance to tell you--”

“--Foggy, I--”

“--and I never knew how you’d react, I don’t know if you feel the same, I just--”

“--Foggy.”

“--ever since college! It’s okay, if you don’t feel the same, we can just put the whole thing behind us--”

“Foggy...”

“--I really didn’t want to ruin our friendship, you know?”

“I know, I--”

“But now you know, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I’m honestly terrified of what you’re going to say--”

“Foggy!”

Foggy shut up.

Matt sighed. “Come here.”

Foggy obeyed, walking tentatively over to Matt’s bedside. He sat down at Matt's request, and took his hand when prompted.

Matt propped himself up a bit more on the bed and did his best to meet Foggy’s gaze.

“Now you’re the one making it weird,” Foggy accused with a weak laugh.

Matt laughed back, sounding just as unsure as Foggy felt. He started playing with Foggy’s hand, carefully tracing the lines. “I was waiting for the perfect time to tell you this, but I guess… This could be my last chance.” Matt’s voice cracked in a way that was entirely inconsistent with his cheerful expression. “Foggy, I love you.”

Foggy’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. His chest twisted and he smiled, looking down for a moment. “Like, as a friend, or… As something else?”

“Why not both?”

Foggy laughed lightly and nodded. “Alright, both.” He looked back up at Matt, who was also grinning, and a warm feeling rushed over him.

“I’d kiss you, if it weren’t for the whole sick thing,” Matt commented with a small laugh.

Foggy laughed back, despite the heat rising to his face. “We can do that part later.”

Matt nodded, smirking. “We can definitely do that.”

**…**

It wasn’t long until Matt was released.

And not long after that, Foggy and Matt went on their first date.

It wasn’t anything special, or original. Just dinner and a movie.

At the start of the night, it was a bit awkward. Both of them were pretty out of their element, neither having been in a situation quite like that, and neither of them wanting to screw it up. Sometime during the evening, however, they gave up treating it like a date, and just acted as they normally did with each other. From then on, it was a lovely night.

Their first kiss happened outside of Matt’s apartment.

Foggy couldn’t be blamed for being so distracted the next morning. He didn’t even realize he was staring distantly out the window, until he heard Karen loudly clear her throat in the doorway.

He startled slightly and looked up. “Oh, good morning,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Karen replied, a hint of suspicious interest sneaking into her tone. “You seem happy.”

Foggy shrugged innocently. “Something wrong with that?”

Foggy and Matt hadn’t exactly discussed when or how or _if_ they were going to tell Karen about them, so Foggy wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say.

Karen raised an eyebrow, she looked ready to ask another question, when she was cut off by a soft, “Good morning,” as Matt appeared through the door.

“Good morning,” Foggy and Karen replied in unison. They exchanged a glance as Matt chuckled.

“Now that you’re both here,” Karen said, turning to face the blind man. “The Johnson’s consultation is at noon.”

Foggy groaned and slammed his head against the desk.

Matt laughed. “Come on, Foggy, you can explain what I’ve missed.”

“You haven’t missed anything,” Foggy muttered into a stack of papers. “We’ve been stuck without you.”

“Good thing I’m back, then,” Matt replied with a smile. Foggy lifted his head just to glare at him. “Come on,” he repeated. “Let’s go prepare.”

Foggy stood up and grabbed the file off of his desk, before following Matt over to his office.

…

“And good luck with your wife!” Matt called as Calvin Johnson walked out of the Nelson and Murdock building, muttering to himself.

“That man is insane,” Foggy muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“More than you know,” Matt replied as he closed the door. He turned towards Karen. “Anything else booked for today?”

“Well, no,” Karen answered, “However, you’ve fallen behind on your paperwork.”

“Really far behind. And we need to still need to find the lease records for Calvin Johnson,” Foggy added.

Matt nodded and seemed to think for a moment, before replying, “Do we have time to go out for lunch first?”

Karen smiled. “I don’t see why not.”

...

The majority of the remainder of the day was spent catching up on work. The three of them fell into their normal pattern. Foggy said awkward things and made bad jokes, Karen laughed slightly more than she should have, despite being more than half responsible for keeping Foggy on topic. The other 40 percent of the reason they accomplished anything, was Matt. Everything seemed to be back to normal.

Well, almost everything.

After work, the three stood outside, each trying to hail a cab to get back to their respective apartments. Foggy leaned against Matt, to which Matt responded by immediately wrapping an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.

Karen looked at them sideways, raising an eyebrow. Neither of them acknowledged it.

After a long moment of silence, however, Karen spoke up. “So, um…”

“Yes, Foggy and I are dating now,” Matt explained, before Karen could even finish her question. Foggy grinned, feeling his face heat up a bit.

Karen smirked. “Called it,” she commented, as a taxi pulled to a stop in front of them. She opened the back door. “Goodnight, boys.”

“Goodnight, Karen,” Matt replied.

“Goodnight,” Foggy echoed.

“Tell Claire she owes me twenty bucks,” Karen added as she pulled the door shut.

Foggy huffed, and Matt laughed happily, earning a nudge in his side from his boyfriend.

Another cab. A kiss on the cheek. The night slowed to a peaceful end.

The next morning, as Foggy was getting ready for work, his phone rang. It was Matt. He paused his preparation, letting his tie hang loosely around his shoulders as he answered, “Hey.”

“ _Foggy,_ ” Matt’s voice sounded broken, raw. Foggy’s heart twisted.

“Matt?” he replied, his grip on the phone tightening. “What’s wrong?”

“ _Foggy, please,”_ Matt sobbed out, “ _Please come back._ ”

“What are you talking about? What’s wrong?” Foggy demanded again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“ _I can’t do this without you, I need you._ ”

“Can’t do what?”

“ _Foggy…_ ” Another broken sob.

“I’m coming over,” Foggy decided. “Stay put. I expect a full explanation.”

“ _Don’t go…_ ”

Foggy huffed. Then took a deep breath. The tone of Matt’s voice alone was enough to make him start to feel choked up. “This better not be some kind of fucked up joke, Murdock.”

But Matt was quiet after that. Foggy looked at his phone screen to discover the other man had hung up. No explanation, nothing. Not even a tone to indicate the call had ended.

Foggy didn’t remember the ride to Matt’s place. He remembered arriving to an empty apartment. He remembered an unsuccessful attempt to call Matt back.

He remembered the physical pain of concern. Or was that something else? His headache must have been returning.

He called Karen, who also didn’t answer.

In a sort of last-ditch attempt, he went to the office. What he discovered just managed to piss him off.

Karen was sitting behind her desk. “Good morning, boss,” she bubbled.

“Yeah,” Foggy replied halfheartedly. “Have you seen Matt?”

“He’s in his office,” Karen replied simply.

Foggy quickly moved over to Matt’s office door, and pulled the door open to reveal a very intact, not-crying Matt Murdock. “What the hell?!” Foggy demanded, slamming the door shut behind him.

Matt frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s _wrong?!_ ” Foggy echoed indignantly. “How about that weird-ass phone call this morning?”

“What phone call?” Matt asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

“Don’t pull this bullshi--”

“Foggy, are you feeling okay?” Matt interrupted, standing and walking around his desk, towards Foggy.

“No, I--” Foggy was overrun with a perfectly-timed dizzy spell. He lost his sense of balance for a moment. “I…”

 **  
**Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So  
> Long chapter  
> Because of plot changes  
> But um YEAH here's another cliffie. Hopefully not as bad as the last one? Maybe worse? I unno you tell me.  
> The next chapter probably won't be as long, hopefully won't TAKE as long. We'll see.


	6. No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONCLUSION  
> sort of  
> just read it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lotsa references to brain damage, so don't read if that freaks you out of whatever  
> this chapter is basically sad, sad, and more sad  
> so not at all what I originally planned!  
> yay!

No one was supposed to get hurt. That was always the first priority: keep the civilians safe. Every superhero knew that. That was the reason Daredevil existed; not for revenge, not even for justice, but to protect the innocent people. But people always got hurt. Somebody almost always got caught in the crossfire, and Matt always did his best to get them to safety after that. He knew he couldn’t take full blame for their injuries.

 

This time was different, though.

 

This time, it was personal.

 

Matt hadn’t expected the explosion, of course. No one could have predicted that. But he could have cleared the area, could have done his job to protect innocent people. But he hadn’t know they would be in danger. He had had no idea that Foggy was in that building, or that the building would come down.

 

He hadn’t even found out how many people had been injured until hours later. He didn't even know Foggy had been injured until Claire called him.

 

Now he sat in the hospital, next to the unconscious body of his best friend. Because he hadn't done his job right. He hadn't protected the innocent.

 

"What did the doctors say?” Karen asked softly. Matt could tell by her voice that she was near tears. He didn’t have to see to know that she hadn’t taken her eyes off of Foggy since they’d arrived, hours ago.

 

“They said he’s stable,” Matt answered quietly.

 

Karen snorted. “They always sugarcoat it," she muttered, bitterly.

 

Matt nodded. "Yeah, they do," he agreed. 

 

“He’s too stubborn to die,” Karen tried to joke, but her laughter broke into a sob.

 

Matt smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around Karen. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "He is."

 

**…**

 

Eventually, Karen went home, after making Matt promise he would get some sleep.

 

Matt, reluctant to leave Foggy’s side, stayed at the hospital several hours into the night. He held Foggy’s hand and prayed silently. 

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was shining brightly, an irritating contrast with the depressingly cold hospital.

 

He registered the smell of coffee and Karen’s shampoo just before the door opened. “Hey,” her voice spoke softly, as she walked up and handed him a coffee. “I figured you’d still be here," she muttered, a cross between exasperated and affectionate.

 

“Thanks,” Matt muttered in response, before taking a long gulp of the bitter drink.

 

Karen sat down in the chair next to him, same place she had been yesterday. “Anything change?”

 

Matt shook his head, before prying his hand, which had grown warm and damp in his sleep, out of Foggy’s. “Nothing," he answered sadly. 

 

Karen was quiet for a moment, before she sighed. “He’ll make it,” she said softly, more to herself than to Matt. “He has to.”

 

Matt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled. “He will,” he promised. “Just give him time.”

 

**…**

 

Later that day, Daredevil had to go out and fight crime. His mind was elsewhere. His reactions delayed, his fighting sloppy... He felt deserving of the subsequent beating he received.

 

**…**

 

At one point, Foggy’s parents showed up. Matt had never met them before, but they seemed nice enough. They talked to the doctors, introduced themselves to Matt, and told him where they would be staying during his recovery.

 

They didn’t stick around long after that.

 

**…**

 

Matt was barely sleeping anymore. He spent most of his time in the hospital, where his friend had been administered less than two weeks ago.

 

Karen was starting to worry, he knew that. She would bring him food, coffee, clothes. She would ask him how much sleep he got, and reprimand him when he didn't eat enough.

 

He barely spoke. He had given up on praying, angry at the idea that God could let this happen. He quickly forgot he was supposed to be working a job. Or fighting crime. His mind was only on one thing.

 

**…**

 

It was Karen who snapped him back to reality. It had been almost a month, and Matt woke up to the sound of quiet sobs.

 

It took only a few seconds to recognize that they were coming from Karen, who was leaning heavily against Foggy’s bed and covering her mouth with her hand.

 

“Karen,” he began softly, only to be cut off.

 

“I can’t do this, Matt,” she sobbed angrily. “Isn’t it bad enough that I might lose Foggy?”

 

Matt wasn't sure what she was talking about, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Karen wasn’t finished.

 

“You’re not sleeping right, you’re barely eating, you’ve abandoned work-- you’re freaking me out, Matt,” she explained through her tears. “I can’t lose you both.”

 

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. Matt stood up and carefully moved to wrap his arms around her.

 

Karen eagerly returned the gesture, pressing her face to his chest and weeping openly.

 

“I’m sorry,” Matt muttered, “I didn’t think…” He sighed and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll take better care of myself, I promise… Okay?”

 

Karen nodded, but didn’t pull away, content to cry herself out in Matt's arms.

 

**…**

 

For the next week, the two buried themselves in their work. Distracting themselves by actually getting things done. At the end of the day, however, one or both of them would always end up back at Foggy’s side.

 

It was one such night when Claire came and sat next to Matt. She didn’t know Foggy, which meant the only thing she could want was to talk to Matt.

 

“You…” Claire sighed. “You realize how slim the chance--”

 

“I know.” Matt nodded firmly.

 

Claire took a deep breath. “Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna get your hopes up, but, have you tried talking to him?”

 

Matt frowned. “I thought he couldn’t hear me.”

 

Claire shrugged. “Sometimes comatose patients react to hearing the voices of their loved ones.”

 

Matt rubbed a thumb over the back of Foggy’s hand thoughtfully. “You really think--”

 

“No.”

 

Matt frowned again.

 

“...But it’s worth a shot.” Claire shrugged innocently.

 

Matt nodded, his frown easing up. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try.”

 

“Good.” Claire stood up and pressed a kiss to the top of Matt’s head. “Take care of yourself.”

 

Matt smiled slightly as the nurse began to exit the room. “You know I never do,” he pointed out.

 

“I know,” Claire called from the doorway. As she walked through the door, he could hear her muttering, “But I’ll be damned if I ever stop trying.”

 

Matt smiled a little wider, before turning his attention back to the man on the bed before him. “Hey, Foggy,” he started, “I… I don’t think you can hear me, but…” He sighed. He sounded crazy. “Foggy, it’s me, Matt,” he explained. He watched Foggy for any kind of reaction.

 

Nothing.

 

“Foggy… I… I need you to listen to me. I need you to- to wake up, okay? Please?”

 

Still, nothing.

 

Matt sighed. “I need you to be okay. Just… Please?"

 

**…**

 

Matt spent the next week like that. Every night, he came in, and just… Talked. About anything. When he ran out of things to talk about, and started telling Foggy about his day. Funny things that had happened, the case he was working on, what he had for lunch, what time he woke up, anything. Until his words became empty.

 

 

The one-sided conversation took a more serious turn at some point, when the empty words had become aggravating.

 

“Please,” Matt was saying, after a particularly rough day. He had been talking to Foggy for about two weeks now, and there had still been no change. “Please, Foggy, don’t go,” he muttered softly, his forehead leaning against his hands, which were both clasped around one of Foggy’s. “Just.. Stay with me," he begged, "Please."

 

**…**

 

He woke the next morning to the familiar smell of Karen and coffee. He was still sitting in the awful plastic chair, leaning over Foggy, his head resting at an awkward angle against Foggy’s stomach. He could practically feel Karen’s concerned stare. He sat up slowly, reluctant to move away from Foggy's warmth.

 

“You were talking in your sleep,” she said softly.

 

Matt removed one hand from Foggy’s arm to run it through his hair. “Sorry,” he muttered. “What’d I say?”

 

Karen handed him his coffee and sat down next to him. “Some of it was nonsense, but… I heard ‘come back,’ and ‘Foggy...’ Are you okay?”

 

Matt sat up the rest of the way and stretched. “Yeah, I’ve been… Talking to him," he explained, figuring he must have fallen asleep while doing so. "I don’t think he can hear me, though.”

 

Karen looked down at Foggy where he slept. “You don’t know that,” she pointed out. “It could be working.”

 

Matt shrugged. “No way to know,” he replied quietly, too tired to argue. He took a sip of his coffee; it came from the hospital waiting room and tasted like shit, but he was growing used to it. “Maybe you should try,” he suggested halfheartedly.

 

“Um… Alright.” Karen replied, as she shifted in her seat, setting her coffee aside. “Foggy?” she tried softly, placing a hand on his knee. “Foggy, can you hear me?”

 

Nothing. Again.

 

“Foggy…” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. She took a moment to compose herself. “Be safe, Foggy.”

 

Matt watched her sympathetically, reaching out to take her hand.

 

She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand with a small, brave smile. “We need you, buddy. Okay? We need you to wake up. We love you. ‘D’you know that? We do. So you need to wake up, okay..?”

 

There was still no indication that Foggy could hear her.

 

She shook her head and leaned back.

 

**…**

 

“Why are you still here?” Matt grumbled, tossing down his briefcase and walking over to stand next to Foggy’s bed. “You’re being a real dick, you know that?”

 

He plopped down in the chair again, all too familiar with how it felt. “I saw your parents today,” he started talking, “They’re nice people. Very worried about you. We didn’t talk much, though, your mom started to cry and had to leave.” He sighed and leaned an elbow on Foggy’s bed. “That was a lie. I started to cry. First time I did that since this whole thing started, you know. All your fault. First time I _really_ cried. You made me cry. Are you proud?” His voice cracked. “Damn it, there I go aga--” he caught his breath and buried his head in his hands. “I--” He shook his head. “Damn it.”

 

**…**

 

“Foggy?” Matt said softly, “I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this.” He paused, as if waiting for a reply. His voice shook. “It’s my fault, I--I’m sorry.”

 

**…**

 

“Come on, Foggy,” Matt begged in a soft voice. “Come on, please.”

 

It had been a really bad day. Matt had been having nightmares recently, and he was starting to worry. It had been over three months, and the doctors were starting to talk about moving him to a long-term facility. Things were looking bad.

 

He clutched Foggy’s hand. “I need you, Foggy.”

 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, for Karen’s sake. The blonde sat across from him, holding Foggy’s other hand, tears silently slipping down her cheeks.

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Matt’s quiet voice cracked. “It has to be, right? It--” His voice broke and he took a deep breath. “It has to be,” he repeated, his grip on Foggy’s hand tightening. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “I never-- I never had the chance to tell you that I love you,” he muttered softly.

 

Foggy’s hand tightened around Matt’s.

 

“F-Foggy?” Matt’s heart stopped for a second.

 

“Foggy, wake up,” Karen muttered, panicky, placing a hand on Foggy’s shoulder.

 

Matt was frozen in disbelief, praying silently he hadn’t just imagined that.

 

“Foggy,” Karen repeated, slightly. “Come on, wake up!”

 

“Claire!” Matt called, turning in his seat. “He moved!”

 

**…**

 

Karen stood in the hall outside of Foggy’s room, biting her nails nervously as Matt paced back and forth. The doctors and nurses were doing… Whatever they did when a comatose patient showed signs of improving. They had explained it, but Matt hadn't paid any attention, too distracted to listen.

 

A thousand questions ran through his head. Had it been a nerve twitch? Was he really getting better? Was he getting worse? Could he really hear him? Would he be alright if he did wake up? Would he ever be the same? He voiced none of these, but he had a feeling Karen was having the same thoughts.

 

“He could hear you,” Karen muttered wondrously.

 

“How do you know?” Matt snapped, misdirected anger firing towards the innocent woman, “Maybe it was just--”

 

“I know,” Karen affirmed. She lowered her hands. “When you told him you loved him, he smiled,” she explained. “Just like he would if he was awake.”

 

Matt’s pacing slowed to a stop. He was about to respond, when Claire appeared.

 

 

Claire shook her head. “He’s in exactly the same condition as before. Is it possible you imagined--?”

 

“No,” Matt interrupted. “He moved. I know what I felt.”

 

Claire shrugged helplessly. “There’s nothing we can do, unless there’s an actual change in brain activity.”

 

“There’s really nothing?” Karen asked, sounding broken. "Nothing in his records? He didn't... He didn't hear us?"

 

“Nothing conclusive. Just regular abnormalities,” Claire confirmed. “I’m sorry.”

 

Matt sighed. “It’s fine. Thank you, Claire.”

 

**…**

 

For the next week, nothing changed. Against every effort, Matt could feel his hope slipping away. Maybe Foggy really was gone. Maybe he’d never wake up.

 

He thought these dismal thoughts as he sat in what he knew was the dimly lit hospital room, late at night. Technically, after visiting hours, but having a nurse friend had some advantages.

 

He took a deep breath, and grabbed Foggy’s hand.

 

“Foggy,” he began, his voice raw from crying. He shook his head. “Foggy, please,” he sobbed, losing the strength to hold it together. “Please come back,” he muttered. He took another deep, shaky breath, making a weak attempt to hold the tears at bay. “I can’t do this without you,” he sobbed. “I need you.”

 

To no one’s surprise, Foggy simply lay there silently. Maybe listening, maybe not.

 

“Foggy…” Matt sobbed brokenly, “Don’t go.”

 

No more words made it through the plethora of tears that followed.

 

**…**

 

“M…”

 

Matt sat up, lifting his head from the back of the chair with immense pain, and a loud crackling sound. He stretched hs neck for a moment, trying to work out the kinks that had developed from sleeping in that shitty chair. He frowned, trying to determine the source of the sound.

 

He couldn’t smell Karen’s shampoo, though he did smell the stale scent of coffee. Judging by the warmth in the room, the sun had long since come up.

 

“M… Pl…”

 

Matt snapped awake. “Foggy?”

 

“I… Nnn…”

 

“Hey, don’t try to talk yet, they--”

 

The door flung open, and a team of nurses and doctors swept into the room. A nurse escorted a dazed Matt Murdock from the room.

 

He immediately pulled out his phone and called Karen.

 

“I think he’s awake.”

 

“ _You think?! What does that mean?_ ”

 

“Well, they kicked me out.”

 

Karen started crying right then, over the phone. " _Oh my god._ "

 

Matt felt himself suddenly feel weaker. His throat closed up. He didn’t know what would happen, but he knew this was it.

 

No more waiting.

 

No more muttering pleads to a vegetative Foggy.

 

He was either waking up, or he would die.

 

**…**

 

“The family of Franklin Nelson?”

 

Karen and Matt stood up immediately, in sync with Foggy’s parents, who sat across from them.

 

“He’s awake, but family only, please.”

 

Foggy’s parents took each other’s hands and went into the other room.

 

Karen plopped down angrily in her chair. She crossed her arms.

 

Matt took a deep breath and sat down next to her. He started fidgeting with his hands. “You know, a lot of the time, when people wake up--”

 

“I don’t wanna know,” Karen muttered, displeased. “He’s gonna be fine.”

 

Matt bit his lip. “He might not even be the same person anymore.”

 

Karen swallowed thickly and didn’t reply.

 

Matt took a deep breath.

 

A few hours later, Foggy’s parents came out, they left silently, clutching each other.

 

“Matt,” Claire’s voice spoke. “I’ve arranged for you two to get to see him.”

 

Matt smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Claire.”

 

Claire winced. “Don’t thank me yet. He’s… Just remember, the road to recovery is long, and it’s not always easy--”

 

“Please!” Karen interrupted, her voice raw and determined. “Please, just, let us see him.”

 

Claire nodded. “Same room as before.”

 

**…**

 

Matt walked in first, his throat closing up at the sight of Foggy sitting up in the bed. Some doctors were talking to him, but he was staring at them in confusion.

 

“Hey, Foggy,” Matt said gently.

 

Foggy turned to Matt and grinned, but didn’t say anything.

 

A little red flag went up in Matt’s mind. He walked over the other man. “How you feeling?” he asked.

 

Foggy shrugged.

 

That did not bode well. “Could you maybe say something?” Matt requested, voice shaking only slightly.

 

Foggy sighed. “You…” His voice was scratchy, despite the two emptied glasses of water on the nightstand. “...Bastard.”

 

“Good to have you back,” Matt laughed, though his voice cracked.

 

Foggy suddenly frowned. “Was I gone?”

 

“You were in a coma,” Matt explained softly, placing a hand on Foggy’s shoulder.

 

Foggy’s heart rate increased. “For how long?”

 

“Three months,” Karen answered.

 

Foggy turned to Karen with a deeper frown. “Who are you?”

 

Karen’s face fell. “I-”

 

“Karen,” Foggy said, as if he’d just figured it out. He closed his eyes and lowered his head to his hands. “The… The girl who works at our office.”

 

Matt took a shaky breath. “Yeah, she’s been working with us for a long time now--”

 

“Are you his caretaker?” a doctor’s voice interrupted.

 

“N-- well, sort of, we are, I guess,” Karen answered, placing a hand on Matt’s arm.

 

“I have a few things to discuss with you.”

 

**…**

 

“But he will get better?” Karen asked.

 

“Most likely, yes,” the doctor answered, “Given time, and proper therapy.”

 

“How much time?” Matt asked nervously.

 

The doctor shrugged. “Hard to say. It should only take a few weeks.”

 

**…**

 

Matt and Foggy took one cab, while Karen took another. They had decided it would be best for Matt to stay with Foggy during his recovery, since Foggy seemed the most comfortable with his longtime best friend.

 

Foggy was quiet for the first few minutes of the drive. Matt didn’t have to wonder what was on his mind for long.

 

“Matt?” Foggy’s voice was so quiet, he wasn’t sure a normal person would have been able to hear it.

 

“Yes?” Matt replied softly.

 

Foggy looked away from the window to gaze on Matt. “What if they can’t fix me?”

 

“Maybe they don’t need to,” Matt replied.

 

That answer only seemed to upset Foggy further. “I keep forgetting your name,” Foggy admitted softly. “I know who you are, but I keep forgetting things… I can’t think right.”

 

Matt sighed softly. “Well, the therapists will fix that. Don’t worry.”

 

“And if they can’t?” Foggy demanded.

 

Matt tentatively placed a hand over Foggy’s. “Then I’ll just have to remember everything for you.”

 

Foggy watched him wearily. “You won’t leave?”

 

“Of course not,” Matt replied, his fingers tightening around Foggy’s. “No matter what.”

 

“Promise?” Foggy asked softly.

 

“Promise,” Matt confirmed gently.

 

Foggy smiled for a moment, before frowning. “Where are we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! Weak ending
> 
> beeeeeecause I’m gonna write a sequel! WHAT? yeah I wanna write about recovery cause that’s my favorite thING so yeah


End file.
